Scene Stealer
by usherhouse
Summary: I wanted to add some of my versions of scenes from the Twilight Saga that I felt compelled to re-work. I am trying to develop my writing abilty and have a different style that I can offer. I own nothing of Twilight. Enjoy and thanx.
1. tent

Bella is face down on the sleeping bag. Edward enters and surveys her, then crouches beside her, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

She curls into a tight fetal ball. Burying her face from his view as best she could.

"No, I want to die."

Edward runs his hand over her hair, and she cringes from his touch as if it hurts. "I'm sorry, Bella," he intones, "I can't allow it."

"You may rethink that." She sits up, on her knees, but keeps her face away from his eyes. "I did something, and I hurt you." She put her hand to her cover her eyes as if she were rubbing her temples.

"I don't appear to be the one hurt, Bella."

"Then you don't know."

"I believe I've had a very comprehensive look. I wasn't necessarily surprised."

"Then you don't know. . . ." she stopped for a moment. Could she say it out loud, knowing what would be carried on these words? ". . . that I wanted it."

And that was it. Without a sound, in the quiet of Edward's comprehension, she knelt forward, her face just inches from the dirt.

"Please hate me."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Never."

He was aware of the shudders running up her through her chest. She could barely whisper through it. But he heard anyway. "Make me……beg. Please."

"Never."

"Call me every filthy name you know, in every language."

"Never."

"Say something, anything," she wimpered. She bent further forward, pressing her cheek to the ground, her palms flat on the earth. "Hate me, Edward. I deserve it. Just hurt me back, please."

"You won't get any hate from me, Bella. Quite the opposite."

He sat back and looked at her prone in front of him. Ashamed of himself. Disgusted. She is a queen, not a beggar. And he created this. "Bella, please sit up." She did so and wiped her face with her sleeve.

Edward turned away to allow Bella to compose herself. He spoke, softly, almost to himself.

"Ott ut tagen hof, felliea ut vanda . . . ._ Alaska_, ott ut tagen shtogan uf un sky, ie ut tagen o yesta."

"ag shtannus . . . vander shtannus han ag hommun nuta mae vitas oe, vas agos . . _. shone_ . . . uf yestas ey. Ott tonnus es evas tagenas. Orr, tilda ut yesta talla taes?"

"Yesta qummor nutamore."

"Ut vasse tannas . . . . Williamson. O ma, ott vasse nuta salla. Yesta oe. A melas I lannas yesta las no teneronus. Ott vonnum, ott nuta talla I modosof."

"Osus or kerra, Bella, so yesta aless an oe?"

* * *

When I first saw you, and I went . . . . to Alaska, and when I looked at the stars in the sky, all I saw was you.

These suns, these . . . wandering suns, these heavens, had no life for me, until they shone in your eyes. And now that is all I see. How can I make you know this?

You betrayed no one.

I wish you hadn't asked Jacob. But more, I wish you hadn't needed it. But you do. It hurts in ways you will not ever comprehend. I promise, I will not make it necessary again.

We are almost there Bella; please, will you wait for me?

* * *

She got to her feet and wiped her face with her sleeve. A certain resignation in her face. "That's okay, that's to be expected, I guess. I have no place to say," she said, and taking a deep breath, "She is interesting and can't be hurt."

"Who?" he asked, genuinely and very perplexed.

"Nevermind"

"Well then," he said shifting subject, "we need to be on alert for the events in the field."

"I would like a moment."

"Certainly." He took a quick appraising glance at her before he walked out of the tent and headed toward Seth, who was curled around the trunk of a spruce, his head on his paws.

Bella was alone with her thoughts. They unfolded themselves like a long lifetime of fate. When you can live forever, the effects of time are different. If you are always assured of a future, then the future loses it's value. As your memories fade over the long expanse of life, the past ceases it's hold on you. All that is left is the now. And in the now she decided she would not allow shame. If there is only now then restraint falls away, and need and desire and love remain. There are no bindings from the small opinions of others. She felt resolved, resolved to get her happiness. And she was now content in this. What would be of value in fifty years? A hundred? He had said he was _that boy_. And she loved _that boy_. Done.

She walked out the tent into the snow that had fallen overnight.

"Edward?"

He turned to see Bella in the snow. Ankle deep, against the backdrop of the whiteness, she looked radiant. The growing sun brought out the shining crimson streaks that only his vision could due justice. She was bundled against the cold. The wind was mild, but it blew the soft powder around her. Flakes landed in her hair, on her cheeks, her hands, her eyelids, and as the sun hit her just right, for his eyes alone, she sparkled.

Just then, in a crushing moment of intuition Edward grasped it _– Alaska_-Tanya

"Oh, Bella, no, no, no-that's not what I said…" he went back for her.

"I don't care, Edward. Please be quiet."

He stopped in his approach.

Seth's ears pricked up. He turned an expectant eye toward Bella.

Edward turned back to her.

She looked at him; a thin relaxed smile lay across her lips. She didn't take her eyes off his when she dropped to her knees in the snow. She felt a release, a calling to destiny, a supplication, a servitude to her bare heart.  
She knew right then and there that her soul will be glorified in it's nakedness, naked and wanting the freedom of love. That glory will be hers.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella," he said, stepping back toward her to take her hand.

"Will you marry me? Will you be my husband?"

He kneeled in the snow and replied . . . .


	2. how dare you

I was positively shaking with rage. My arms straight at my sides, fists balled up, my mind just a jumble of exploding red flares. I reeled upon him. "How dare you! My truck did nothing to you! And you ripped out it's . ."

"Bella, please."

" . . .it's whatever part!"

He stood against my closet, unmoving, unrepentant. His eyes held nothing, he was searching my face. He was measuring.

"You know why I did this."

" Well that just…sucks." I started pacing, around the bed, circling in front of my desk, back to the window. When I walked back and forth in front of the window, the stream of moonlight appeared to flicker.

He approached warily. "Let's look at this from a logical perspective. Indeed, maybe, I was a little hasty, but once Alice saw you disappear, I needed to know you were safe."

"I'm never safe, so what is the big deal?"

"It is a big deal to me."

"This isn't about you." I said, severely. I couldn't look at him. It was too late, the shrill was coming. "This is about ME!" I charged him, inches away and pointed a firm finger at his shirt. "My life, understand? And how I live it and how I expect the same standards as everybody else." Edward blinked, but I saw a flash of pain in his eyes. He went back to being firm in his understanding. Right at this instant, I absolutely hated being _understood_. I wanted a damn answer. In a raspy huff, I turned abruptly and went to my desk. I needed to do something with my hands, so I tussled with some of the papers on top.

"Wolves have no control, Bella, they know little in the way of restraint."

"And you call this restraint? This obsessive hatred you have for Jacob? What about a little trust here.?"

"This isn't about trust, this is about a decision you made where you don't seem to grasp the gravity of the consequences."

"So you decide what I'm supposed to do? Then just_ force_ your will on me? Is that it?" I tossed the papers down and they skittered across the desk. "For God's sake, Edward, it makes me feel like a pet." I turned and eyed him warily. Something ugly came up inside me, but his face gave no quarter, just unfathomable depth to his amber eyes. Not a smile, not a blink. The thought just came upon me. "Or am I just a pet?" I pressed hard, emerging resentment behind my harsh tone. I charged him again and looked straight up into his face. "Am I? Answer me!"

"You're being ridiculous now."

As a reflex, I turned away from him, circled around the bed , to take a quick glance out the window, before I turned sharply back toward him. "You do not stop me, do you hear that? That's the rule. Ever. No one has that right. Got it?"

"Your safety is my paramount concern, something you seem unable to comprehend . . . "

"Facts are facts, mister, and the last time I checked only vampires have wanted to kill me." I paced back and forth again, balling my fists and hammering the sides of my head. "Gah! I'm arguing with a vampire about a werewolf!"

He took a measured step toward me, not much more than a dark shadow against a black one. When he approached the pale moon beam, a glint showed me where his eyes were. As if I needed that pointed out to me. "One look at Emily should drive the point home, Bella. I am sorry for the example, but the truth is - "

"The truth is," I snarled, " they have never hurt me . . .not like-." I halted immediately. I gasped at the word that was on my tongue. No.

"I see," he hissed.

Measurement over. _Now_ he came at me.

He had his hands on my shoulders before my mind could grasp he wasn't across the room from me anymore. My breathing hitched, at the thought of _fear_. Please don't let him _hear it._ " Perhaps, Miss Swan, I should take that into account from now on."

" No, that's not it . . .I meant that – "

" I think we both need time to calm down. Gather ourselves. I shall see you tomorrow. Good night."

And with that I was alone.

It's just so hard to keep up. There has to be a boundary somewhere. It isn't healthy to not have them, right? I felt dumb as I started to sound like I was channeling my Mom. But I had to think of something, just to keep the reality away. The dread and the shattering. The clutching pain that would come with the comprehension that Edward just left.

Angry.

And I was terrified.

The traitor tears came, and stung as I squinted my eyes shut to stop them. I _had _– no! not past tense!-_have_ something so beyond reason, so incredulous that it makes me want to burst.

I know about good and evil, I know of a life outside of death, I have beheld the origin of man's worst fears and legends. I have seen these things and I have loved them.

I hobbled for a moment as I kicked out of my shoes and padded to the window, watching the leaves sway and turn in the breeze. The grinding sound of someone dragging garbage cans to the curb, an untethered dog crunching the bracken in a neighbors yard made the night look and sound so normal. To them.

"I have kept the secret, Edward. I have kept it, I have buried it. I have lied to those I love to keep it."

My parents, my friends, my _tribe,_ and I have kept the secret and been dishonest to their faces. Doesn't that tip any kind of scale in my favor? Ever? I can't lie to those I love. I don't want to-it hurts too much.

I spoke to whatever patrolled outside in the dark. "I have been what you needed, Edward, just let me be what I need."

I was becoming lightheaded with fatigue and the potent mash of feelings I was trying to understand. I imagined myself in a large gray cement room. No windows or doors, just me in the middle, with myself. A blank box. I instinctively felt that I was safe there. Unafraid, unaware of the outside, safe from some clawing, hurtful_ thing_. But I also rebelled against common sense, by desiring the _opportunity_ for hurt. There was no Bella in the solid room. I wanted out. Safe or not, _ hurt_ is the balance. The possibility of misery is the bet you place before each card of life is turned over.

I rubbed the tears off my cheek with my sleeve. I sniffed, trying to stop my nose from stuffing up. I wrapped my arms around my chest and held on to my ribs. There was a slumping in my muscles, a resignation in my shoulders, a curling inward. The fight in me was ebbing away. Leaning my shoulder against the window frame, I looked wistfully outside. A car light, a streetlight and moonlight. Black shapes of pointed, feathery trees began to appear as my eyes adjusted to the dark outside. The clouds were lit up from behind like soft gray lights from the moon that would peek out every now and then.

I would have my opportunity. I will get out of the box and place that bet. I spoke facing into the chilled breeze. "Edward, I love you . . . . but I have to love me first. I have to draw the line right there. I'm sorry. Otherwise I'm no good for you."

A whisper of a breeze stirred outside. A faint hiss as the wind blew through the trees. Some leaves scuttled across the yard and the gutters. Two cool hands came from behind and took hold of my shoulders. His scent curled around me, a soft floral, like Hawaiian Wisteria, with a musk of cedar, that formed a primitive, simple, but comprehensive thought in me, one that made me almost smile at the absurdity of it: this is my man.

That is all he really is.

This made me let out an unintended chuckle. I put my fist to my mouth to silence myself, but in truth, that is what he is. Yes, he is a man. I couldn't help myself, I giggled at the sound of it.

He murmured in my ear. "Something humorous you'd like to share?"

"Not on your life." He is who I want. And please, God, let me have him.

Edward wrapped his arms around my chest. He whispered. " I have to love me, too, Bella." I could feel his cheek press into my hair. He kissed the top of my head. He held me. "And that is the most demanding of tasks."

"But, just why Edward? Tell me."

"Not on your life," he intoned.

He was gentle with his embrace, but said no more. I watched the clouds dim the moon, then move on to bring back the silver cast that moonlight lays on the earth.

" I am afraid you think too much of me," he went on. " Only I, alone, know I can never be what you see in me. And that knowledge slays me. That is a painful insecurity that is entirely unknown to me. That is my weakness."

I reached up and put my hand over his, while he continued, unguarded. " I promise I will try to live up to your image of me. Please just forgive my failure." His cheek rested in my hair. " I shouldn't expect you to have to make up for that, Bella. I am so sorry."

I was quiet, breathing softly now, watching the lights go off in Mrs. Cobbs' house across the street. If she looked out her kitchen window right now, she'd see Edward embracing me. She would certainly tell Charlie pronto. And right now? That is okay. I wanted to live this moment and would bare it to anyone who might brazenly dare challenge it.

I turned my head to kiss his hand. "It's a strength now that you told me about it."

I couldn't help myself, I parted my lips and took in his scent, deeply. Again. All in me. It filled my lungs and entered my blood, circulating and tracing itself so completely within me. I had never felt it _go so far_.

The tension went out with the moon as it rolled behind the soft face of the gray clouds. Now, in it's place, a certain harmony. Clear and calm. A breathing together. Well, I smiled to myself, at least one of us was breathing.

"Can I buy you a new truck?".

"Nope."


	3. hand break aftermath

Bella opened the door and was shocked.

Grey houndstooth slacks, low heeled black shoes, red silk blouse with an open collar. Several strands of fine gold chain looped around a bare neck. Bella thought her hair was a touch darker than the last time they had been together, more of a chestnut than caramel. Some thin gold strands ran through her hair and highlighted the ends. Maybe it was the light overhead on the porch, but she looked _radiant._ She had what appeared to be a small package in her hand, something wrapped in aluminum foil. Charlie came up beside Bella, ready to snarl at Edward's arrival.

"You must be Charlie, Bella's father. I'm Esme."

It stopped Charlie in his tracks. You could practically hear the freight cars slamming into his locomotive from behind as he hit the brakes. He held out his hand, still dumbstruck.

"I was at Sendik's market and I remembered Bella liked these." She said, turning to Bella "Edward called me and told me you hurt yourself?"

"Oh, yeah, I hurt my hand." She looked at the ice pack. "We were going to see Carlisle." She looked resigned, "Either at home or at the hospital, he's going to see me sooner or later and probably often."

She looked up, "You think he'd be used to patching me up by now." Esme noticed Bella was shaky, she was hurt and it showed.

"Is that your hand? Let me see." She stepped into the front room. She turned her back to Charlie and took Bella's hand. "Let me see this."

Bella removed the ice bag. She closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled. Esme's cool touch felt wonderful.

"You've split two knuckles, honey," she said, concerned.

"Edward will be here in a moment and he'll get you taken care of." Charlie had the creeping impression that Esme was talking to him.

Jacob looked just as surprised as Bella at the woman who had just come in. Charlie, genuinely shocked, started to look around, out of his comfort zone.

"Here, where are my manners?" she looked around; "Let me take these to the kitchen."

She smiled at Jacob as she went by him. He was still lounging in the chair, one leg over the armrest.

She could hear Edwards car pull up, and his spirited dash to the front door.

He would keep them busy.

Esme looked around. The yellow cabinets, the well worn kitchen table with three chairs. Organized, clean, lived in, but worn. There were three barrels on the counter; one with wooden spoons, another with utensils, and the third with, what? A Shiny Toy Gun? A childhood toy perhaps? She fixed on some of Bella's schoolwork stuck on the sides of the refrigerator with flower shaped magnets. Colorful bits of construction paper cut into flowers, dogs, suns, a house and all the flashing delights that run through a child. There was a cutout hand print with a water colored label; Happy Father's Day – Bella age four. Hanging on the opposite wall, by a thin dry piece of string was a frame made of colored Popsicle sticks. Inside was a photo of a very small child in front of a birthday cake with three candles. A bright, smiling, harried woman next to her, smiled for the camera. The child had a hand painted sign she was holding over her head as high as her little arms could reach. It said - three is not one or two, she is three!

It hit Esme. It hit her hard. Bella had been a real child. A little girl. A precious little girl. A child. That one piece, that shining piece, that warm sun that is forever extinguished inside her, that numb clawing ache that will last absolutely _forever_… Esme put her hand to her mouth.

Now that child is the mahogany haired beauty that has captured her son. Yes, she concluded, she would even defy Carlisle then beg for his forgiveness. Bella was Edwards and Bella was hers.

She went to the front room and stuck her head around the corner. She smiled sweetly and looked at Jacob. "You look nice and tall, could you help me get a plate down from the cabinet?"

Bella turned, "Uh, they are in the-"

Edward tugged at her hand, and pulled her attention back to him.

Jacob bounded out of the chair, anxious to get out of the front room with Charlie and Edward.

"Sure."

She backed into the kitchen when Jacob sauntered in.

"Here try some of this first, tell me what you think. They are date and cinnamon."

Esme opened the bundle and as she jostled with unfolding the foil, a muffin slipped out and headed toward the floor. Jake instinctively bent down to catch it before it landed.

And immediately he knew he'd made a mistake. A flash of pale movement whispered in front of him and now his hands were bound. She had both of them locked in front of him, held firmly in place by her petite hands. She'd bumped him up against the refrigerator. The bottles inside clinked and some knick knacks on top toppled over with the force.

"Wha..?"

"Hello Jacob."

In just the next quick second, he learned that Laurent was a thug. They had toasted their success at Sam's with bowls of chips and bottles of soda. Sam and Emily toasted each other with cold beers from the refrigerator in the garage. Emily had smiled with them as they recounted the chase while she gently massaged Sam's shoulder. She knew he had been hurt but she would never shame him in front of the others by bringing it up. She wanted to touch him, to know he was home, to know he was safe where she could see him. To love him. They laughed the laugh of the invincible. But, here, now, Jacob knew it was a lie.

_This_ was a Vampire. Serpentine and deadly in biblical proportions.

"With three phone calls I can have half the world's demons at your door. "

"This isn't really your business lady-"

"Did you hurt that child? Did you press yourself upon her?"

"No it wasn't like that."

"Then how was it?"

"I am not afraid of leeches and I -"

"I didn't ask you to be afraid, I asked you a question. Did you hurt that child?"

She was strong; Jacob exerted pressure to get her to release his hands. She clenched harder. He felt he could break free if he tried, but if he couldn't? She would know the limits of his strength and would tell the others. Yes, better to relax, not fight the grip, letting her_ think_ she is strong is better than letting her _know_ she is. Don't struggle, just relax, don't fight it. Calm, calm. Get to Sam.

"Yes, you are like your father," she said. "Did he tell you I met him once? He was, I think, about seven or eight. He was with your grandfather." She searched his face for a moment, "And young William grew up wise and thoughtful. You should learn from his example."

"He isn't scared of you."

"The brave die just a quick as the fearful."

He looked down upon her. It was the eyes, amber, rimmed with a very thin line of bright gold. But inside, they drew him into the darkness. Inside, deep into them Jacob could see flashes, just sprites really, of golden sparks. Wolves had this same spark, they had seen it, and Laurent had seen it. It is what rage looks like from inside the heart.

Venom was starting to swirl in her eyes. The rage was maternal and ancient.

This is the last thing a snake charmer sees.

Slow, slow, slow, slow, breathe, breathe, calm, calm, calm . . . . . . . . . Sam

Esme, smiled wider now. No, she didn't, not really, she grinned. They didn't have fangs, that was myth, but their teeth grew sharp. Esme was unique in her world and Jacob felt a pang of bile laden pain as he looked straight at it. Her canines were sharp, to be sure, but nothing that would look out of place with a quick glance. When her smile pulled her lips back just a bit farther the teeth just behind the canines, the bicuspids, were missing. In their place was a _second set_ of canines. And they were a bit longer. Liquid was filling her mouth.

She shreds.

"Let me be brief, we have company. My son worships her Jacob, every bite of her lip, every wisp of hair out of place, every breath she takes, every glance, every touch: she is music to him and he worships her for it. I love her as well, young Jacob. She is _my daughter_, in every sense of the word."

Esme closed her eyes for just a moment, as if to find the right words to define the shape and depth of her hurt and anger. She whispered smoothly, like cool steam water rolling over a stone.

"My boys will gladly hold you down while you watch me slaughter your father."

He tried to muscle past her, but she put up an arm to block him. "Get away from me," he said as he ducked under to head for the others. But not before she whispered one final warning.

"Don't forget, I will outlive you and I will come back for your children."

Her eyes followed him for a moment. The men were tense in the other room, conversation was quiet, but it rumbled.

That was their business, this was hers. Esme stepped over to the stove and turned the handle of one of the burners. Tick, tick, tick, whooomp. She put her hand over the flame. She looked focused as she turned her hand over and over.

Yes, if he hurt her she would come back and annihilate them all.

She put her hand over her mouth for a brief time. She then grabbed a muffin and headed to the front room.

Jacob was standing beside Charlie, facing Edward, but he moved back to the chair and flopped down noisily when Esme returned. Bella was off to the side holding the ice pack. She would look down and around and occasionally pull her lip under her teeth.

"Hold out your hands Charlie." Esme was buoyant and smiling. He did so with both hands as if he was trying to capture rain water. She dropped the single muffin in his hands. "I had to save you at least one; Jacob was going to wolf them all down!"

Esme glided up close, very close, to Charlie and used her hand to cover his. She slowly closed his hand over the muffin. "Sometime I just don't know where these boys put it all."

"Yeah, it boggles the mind sometimes. Doesn't it?" Charlie had that slight smile, that mischievous one.

"Sometimes I think Edward would attack anything that moved. " Esme looked straight up into Charlie's face. She put one hand on Charlie's chest and patted it. "I think Carlisle was telling me you missed your State Physical for this year?"

She playfully patted his chest again- she thought inwardly _Edward, tell Carlisle to check for heart disease._

"Was that this month?" He shot a glance over to Bella as if she was somehow responsible for him deliberately not going to the appointment.

"I'll tell you what, Charlie, we'll tell Dr. Snow you will be there early Saturday morning and I promise he will have you out before the fish start biting. Deal?"

"Can he really promise that? I hate sitting around."

"I can make it happen." She was looking up through her lashes. "Promise me?"

"Certainly," he said, how could he refuse?

"Good, we can't have our chief constable falling ill, can we?"

"No, not since you put it that way, I guess." Charlie's face was now just short of beaming. A certain ruddiness started to creep into his complexion.

Edward leaned in to Bella, "So that's where you get it from." He was smiling broadly.

Esme stood on her toes and gave Charlie a friendly and warm kiss on the cheek. "Now don't you forget – Saturday."

"I'll not forget, Esme"

Bella's mouth literally dropped open. Edward slowly put a finger under her chin and closed it. Bella's eyes were as wide as saucers. She had never seen this in all her life.

My Dad talking to a woman. A woman actually touched him! _And he's blushing!_ Bella's mind was racing, as fast it could, this was ….is… so adorable! This wasn't him talking to my Mom over a tense dinner when he would visit; this was like, like a real woman. She shook her head, knocking loose all preconceived notions that were changing at the sight of what was in front of her. My father is _a man. _She was aghast.

Then a realization began to creep into her thoughts, slow and hopeful,now maybe, he can understand _. . . me._

I've got to call Renée.

"I've got a phone in the car. You can have your fun while we head home."

Bella looked at him with raised eyebrow. "Sometimes I think you just tell me you can't read my thoughts. Your not holding out on me are you?"

"Never, I'll get your coat and we will go."

Esme said her goodbyes and left first. Charlie held the door for Esme; she walked out and down the brick porch steps. She got just to the edge of the night, turned and looked to see Charlie still there. She gave him a wave. Then she went into the night.

Charlie stood in the doorway for a moment then turned inward. But it was different now. The tension he had expected was draining away.

"You kid's good?"

"I'm fine Chief Swan," Edward said. "I'll get her to see Carlisle and take care of the hand. She will at the least need a splint." He could be generous; he knew Esme had done his work for him. She was revered in his family as the mother, not because she was Carlisle's wife, but because she had earned that title, many times over.

Jacob spoke sincerely. "Sorry Bella, that really must hurt." He got up from the chair, and headed for the door. "I gotta be going too. See you later, Charlie. Bella."

As he got to the threshold, Charlie looked at Edward. "You kids good?"

"Yes, Chief, there is no trouble." Edward spoke, "Come Bella, the swelling is getting monstrous."

They went out onto the drive.

"Wait," Bella jumped, "I forgot something."

She jogged up the steps into the house, into the front room. Her dad was in mid bite of a muffin and Jake perked up.

"He ticked you off so soon? That had to be record time!"

"Jake, you are a moron. But at least you are _my moron_." Bella went past him to Charlie. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Bye' Dad. Love you. I'll be back whenever."

He watched her go out to Edward's car. His thoughts were new, but nevertheless wistful.

"Bye, Bells."

The small school bus rumbled to a stop at the corner of a long dirt drive. Various creaks and squeals attested to it's age and hard use on the Quileute reservation. The door opened and a young boy of eight or nine dropped out onto the soft moist dirt. He turned and waved to the driver, who waved back then closed the door. The bus took off and the boy headed home. He walked maybe twenty yards before he could see his house. His father was working in the open garage. A tall man, short cropped black hair with just a trace or two of silver beginning to intrude on his otherwise youthful looks. The waved to each other and called out.

Then the father breathed in a scent he hadn't experienced in decades. Sickly sweet, way too heavy to be natural, disgustingly saccharine, cloying to everything it came in contact with. He shot his eyes toward his son. His stomach spasmed at the recognition, the burn of fear and bile. The boy was walking down the side of the path and from a cluster of trees, a sharply dressed woman had appeared. She was kneeling down talking to his son. He ran around his work table, but it was as if he was screaming in a vacuum; he couldn't hear himself. The woman turned to look at him for a moment and had a growing, satisfied smile crossing her beautiful face. She turned back to the little boy and opened her mouth . . . . .wide.

.


End file.
